


Share your warmth with me

by Sleepless_Malice



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fireplaces, Fluff, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8877949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/pseuds/Sleepless_Malice
Summary: After Feren returns from patrolling the wintry forest, Galion engages him into some cuddling in front of the fireplace.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyGaGalion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGaGalion/gifts).



> written for the Christmas Challange on Tumblr.

**Share your warmth with me**

*

 

They saw each other briefly when Feren finally returned to Thranduil’s sacred halls earlier this day, lips blue from the biting cold, his soft hair a frozen mess, adorned with glittering snowflakes. Galion, who wanders the earth for more than a millennia has never seen such a winter before, even now the snow clashes into the soldiers' faces. It is a frozen hell of unkindness, bitter and dreadful, with the one he loves most condemned to guard the borders from more than one threat. The king’s orders were unrelenting – be it winter or not, the realm _must_ be protected. It isn’t so that Galion doesn’t understand – if only Feren wasn’t a part of it.

 

*

When Galion enters Feren’s room a couple of hours later, he finds him sitting on the floor in front of the hearth, where the warm blossom of flames is already blazing. Despite the cozy warmth emanating from it, a woolen blanket is wrapped around his trembling form. Seventy and three days Feren was stuck in the forest with a handful of other guards, twenty days longer than usually planned. From Legolas he had learned that a broken bridge delayed their arrival, an information that made everything worse; he nearly died of fear and worry.

“I missed you,” says Galion, sitting down beside Feren on the floor.

Feren shifts his face to look at Galion, tears brim in his eyes. “So did I. At times, I thought I would never return. Never see you again.”

“Hush,” whispers Galion, brushing a strand of auburn hair out of Feren’s face. It still feels cold to his touch. “You’re here now, here with me.”

In the past, it often was Feren who lifted Galion’s mood, who consoled him when Thranduil’s mood shifted towards foul, who wiped the tears from his face, one by one until they lost each other in the embrace they shared. Somehow, Galion is still surprised by this on a daily basis, by how natural their relationship feels, and when Feren is not around him, he feels it more than ever. They kiss each other goodbye and hello, in private when nobody sees them, though they almost forgot about that more than once. From a near-by table, Galion retrieves a glass and fills it with the wine he brought, borrowed from Thranduil’s private cellar as he has done so often before. “Here,” he says, offering the glass to Feren. “It will lift your spirits.”

“Will it?” Is there a hint of mischief in Feren’s voice, Galion wonders briefly, before Feren confirms his assumption. “To me it appears as if there are a few other options to lift my spirits.” It’s the first time Feren smiles since his return, and to Galion it is as if he sees him like it was after they shared their first kiss.

He must not be told twice. Carefully he shifts on the floor until he sits behind Feren, peeling the woolen blanket from his lover’s shoulders. Galion takes in a deep breath, smiling at the familiar scent of sandalwood and moss before he blows his breath out along Feren’s ear and neck, making him shiver in the embrace. With the warmth of the fire the warmth and affection he feels for Feren begins to mingle, a slow burn emanating from his stomach. There’s nothing left they haven’t shared, still, to Galion it is as exciting as if they never did it before.

Galion feels his cheeks burn up from kissing Feren’s neck in such an intimate act of affection, all the more when soft whines of encouragement fall from Feren’s lips. As his hands wander down Feren’s sides Galion places his head upon Feren’s shoulder, mumbling sweet endearments against the shivering skin. To be reunited again feels wonderful, so incredibly enchanting that something distinct begins to press against Feren’s back. There was once a time when Galion would be ashamed of it, embarrassed for the natural reactions of his body, something Feren never understood. To him, everything is natural, and therefore embarrassment doesn’t quite exist in how he sees the world. Sometimes, Galion envies him for it, but then he does not, because through Feren he has learned so many things, accepted what he sees as his biggest flaws. Feren has become the pillar of Galion’s happiness; without him he is nothing.

A shimmering shade of orange and red shines over half of Feren’s face when he tilts his head to look at Galion. Eyes, brightly illuminated by the flames with freckles of gold, are looking at him, challenging him. “Eager?”

Galion tries to get a grip of himself, but loses when Feren leans in to seal their lips in an affectionate kiss, shy at first, but not for long. In silent invitation Feren shifts further under Galion’s touch, adjusting the angle until he’s able to lie down on the floor. His breath grows heavier and more shuddered when Galion lies on top of him, their lips never parting, their hands still closely twined. By now it is clear that he’s not the only one who is affected by what they are doing, because a distinct hardness presses into his stomach.

“ _You_ are eager,” responds Galion just before their lips are on each other again and Galion feels lost in the taste of Feren’s mouth, which never fails to send pleasuring waves through his body.

“It’s uncomfortable,” mumbles Feren against Galion’s lips after a while when both of them are breathing hard, stilling their hips for the moment. It’s not exactly a lie as the floor is hard and uninviting, especially for Feren who lies underneath him. (Yes, the food and wine in Thranduil’s halls has certain effects on Galion.) Usually when they do this, they build a fortress of cushions and blankets in front of it, lying there for many hours without getting bored with each other, but today they didn’t. It’s the woolen blanket and nothing else.  

“I think I can keep you warm, too, if you wish to,” Galion purrs, as he begins to unbutton the tunic Feren wears. After all, the winter could be good for something, muses Galion as these days he has plenty of spare time. The snow which delayed their reunion for so many more days when he was literally starving to have Feren at his side again, to touch his skin, to feel his warmth again, is beautiful. Even Galion has to admit that it is utterly romantic with the open fire burning and the snow falling softly from the sky just before the howling wind comes, and snow swirls and lands in tall drifts. And perhaps in a few days bright sunshine will make a wonderland out of the snow-white forest.

Feren’s face brightens. “Why does it appear to me that you already have a fair idea about how exactly you wish to keep me warm?” he asks, letting his fingertip wander along Galion’s lips.

A soft chuckle disrupts the silence when Galion tilts his head and starts to smirk, his eyebrow raised in challenge. “ _Could_ be.”

*

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
